


I Want to Hurt You

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Roughness, Established Relationship, Feels, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death - Lamp, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, due to sex pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: How could Steve ever look Tony in the eye again? He loved Tony, so desperately, but he didn't know how to come back from this. He didn't know how many apologies would be enough to make up for what he'd done.He could still feel Tony's soft skin giving to dark bruises under his fingers.





	I Want to Hurt You

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the centre free square of MCU bingo for which I made myself do alternating povs. It's also for a kink meme prompt from way back in round 4.
> 
> Thanks to ashes0909 for beta!
> 
> PROMPT:  
> "Sex pollen happened, but hey, no dub-con, they were already with the love of their life... 
> 
> ...it's just that Steve can't believe got so pushy and aggressive, man-handling Tony and growling like an animal. He's covered with shame that he was so horrible and wants to find a way to make it up to Tony, he promises, that won't ever happen again; Tony must be so traumatized.
> 
> And Tony can't stop thinking about it, but he can't ask Steve. Steve must be so traumatized..."
> 
> I went slightly more dub-conny than I think op was thinking but what can you do! :D

Steve turned the tap hotter until his skin prickled and each inhale felt like it was more steam than air. His muscles were sore and aching even with the serum helping them to heal, and his head spun whenever he moved too fast.

"Drink a lot of water," Bruce had said. "The effects have completely worn off, but there'll be a bit of a hangover, I'm afraid. Super soldier or not."

"Is Tony alright?" Steve had asked quietly.

There was a short but palpable pause before Bruce said, "Yeah. He's fine. Do you want -?"

"No. I - I'll find him later. I need… a shower."

"Sure." The painful sympathy in Bruce's voice hurt worse than the throbbing thumps at the back of Steve's skull.

Steve had turned and walked out, headed straight for his old rooms in the tower. He'd walked right into the shower.

He turned the water up hotter, his skin turning red, tingling, but he couldn't wash the feeling off, the feeling of Tony's hands gripping his shoulders, his heels hitting Steve's back…

Steve dug his hands harder into Tony's hips, driving him back against the wall. A growl rumbled through his chest, and he couldn't tamp it down. The drug coursed through his veins, hot, like lava flooding his body. He itched with need, fiery, deep-digging need, that made his muscles twitch and clench. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I can't stop."

"Hey, it's okay, babe." Tony stroked the side of Steve's face, and Steve nuzzled into it, nipping along his wrist when the need flared up again. His hands tightened on Tony's hips, and Tony gasped with pain. "I love you, I trust you, take what you need."

Steve growled again, higher brain functions retreating in the face of Tony's pliant body in his hands. "I need…" He ground Tony up against the wall, licking his gasps out of his mouth.

Steve tugged at Tony's clothes, and when they didn't give, he tore them free of Tony's body, biting his bottom lip hard when Tony grimaced. "Oh god," Tony whined, clinging to Steve's arms but not fighting back. 

Steve didn't care anymore; even if Tony did fight back, he couldn't stop Steve now…

Steve slapped his palm to his forehead and shook the memories away. He glared down at his hardening cock. It wasn't fair, to react like this, when he'd been so utterly horrible. He'd taken Tony,  _ his Tony,  _ and used him horribly. It was disgusting to get off on it. How could he even look Tony in the eye again after this? Steve loved him, so desperately, but he didn't know how to come back from this. He didn't know how many apologies would be enough to make up for what he'd done.

He could still feel Tony's soft skin giving to dark bruises under his fingers.

He turned the water cold instead.

**

Tony lay sprawled on his back on his bed, arms spread wide over the soft comforter. Everything hurt. His arms hurt, his back hurt, his ass hurt. If there was an inch of him that wasn't bitten, bruised, overtaxed, or overstretched, he hadn't found it yet.

Steve, on the other hand, had found every goddamn inch of him, and done whatever he'd wanted to them.

Tony was still reeling; he'd never experienced anything like that in his life. He knew that Steve held back his strength when they were together. You couldn't watch him in battle and think that the soft touches and gentle kisses he showered Tony with on a normal day were the extent of what he was capable of. But Steve liked gentle sex, he always had, and Tony had never considered that there were wilder - more painful - avenues they could have explored. 

He curled his fingers and toes and moaned as his joints creaked and protested. He was completely fucked out, something Tony didn't even know was possible. And it wasn't just his body that ached; there was a painful gouge in his heart as well. After, when the drug had run its course, and the others had found them, and brought them home, Steve had refused to meet Tony's eye.

They'd been brought to separate rooms for a medical exam - they'd had the gall to ask Tony if he needed some kind of survivor's therapy, as if he was going to be the one suffering from this - and he hadn't seen Steve since. All he had to go on was the one look Steve had shot him, right after his last shuddering orgasm. The wild, blown-pupil darkness had receded, and Steve had looked at him once, just once, utterly horrified.

Tony had wanted to comfort him, wanted to curl around him and kiss his brow and tell him that it was okay, and he still loved him, and they could get through this together, but Tony's mouth had been too dry from moaning and gasping to speak, and his muscles had been too exhausted to move. So he'd lain there, bruised and bitten and dripping, while Steve curled into the corner and tried to disappear.

Tony sat up, his abs screaming at the abuse, and looked down at his body. He'd forgone clothing, the rub of the fabric agony, and he could see every mark Steve had left. He fit his fingertips into a handprint on his thigh, slightly bigger than his own…

Steve had slammed him down on the bed, the impact shaking up his spine. His iron grip held Tony's thigh fast as he pushed his leg up and out. Steve's hot mouth landed on Tony's leg, biting and sucking his way from his ankle to the crease of his hip. Tony grabbed two handfuls of the ratty sheets their captors had left them, feeling them tear under him. He threw his head back as Steve bit his inner thigh hard enough to draw blood. 

Without pause, Steve pushed Tony's leg up even higher and shoved his face into his ass, sucking, liking, biting, his unforgiving fingers making Tony's skin throb painfully. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Tony whined. He was caught on the perfect knife edge of wanting Steve to stop the pain, and needing him, desperately, to go on. 

Steve's tongue pressed roughly into Tony's hole, circling his rim then slamming in as far as he could. Tony writhed up off the mattress. His cock throbbed, rock hard, but without a touch, he couldn't come, as close to the edge as he was. He could grab it himself, stroke to completion, Steve was too far gone to notice, but he found himself wanting to draw it out instead, stay caught in this tortuous purgatory for as long as he could…

Tony jerked violently at the memory then groaned as his whole body complained at the sudden movement.

Fuck. That had probably been the most outrageous, out of control, hottest sex Tony had ever had. And Steve had hated it, hated himself now, and somehow - to save their relationship - Tony had to both show him he was okay with it and never reveal,  _ ever,  _ how much he had liked it.

**

Steve lasted in his own room for two days before he could no longer call it recovering and had to face the fact that he was hiding. Bruce had checked on him four times, bringing him food he'd cooked with the others, and, every time, Steve had wanted desperately to ask how Tony was, if Tony was okay, if he'd been hurt, if there was anything he needed.

But he couldn't.

He'd done this. It was his fault. If Tony was suffering, that was his fault too. Tony, who he loved more than he even knew was possible, Tony who he'd vowed to never hurt, to never use his strength on. And not only had he used that strength, he'd used it to - to -  _ take.  _

He swallowed down the bile that threatened his throat. He had no choice now, though. Natasha had called a meeting, and he needed to attend, or provide a more specific excuse than: recovering from horribly abusing my boyfriend after being drugged by the strongest aphrodisiac in the universe.

Tony wasn't there when Steve arrived, but all of the others were. They attempted extreme casualness to counteract the heavy blanket of awkward that settled over the room as soon as Steve stepped inside. Steve could feel his cheeks burning, but he followed their lead in pretending nothing was off. 

They all knew, of course they knew. It had been over by the time they'd arrived, but there hadn't been a way for him and Tony to cover up what they'd been through, especially with Tony needing… medical care. 

Because Steve had hurt him.

Steve sunk into a chair. His hands clenched against his thighs. He'd held Tony's thighs, pushed them open, folded him in half and shoved into him...

Tony gripped a knuckle between his teeth and bit down hard enough for his skin to go white. He cried out around it, his breath coming in hitching sobs now. It registered far away, in the distant back of Steve's mind, but he couldn't access any feelings about it. All he knew was that he needed to plunge into Tony's heat over and over. 

His oncoming orgasm welled up inside him, and he stilled for a moment, pulsing hot and hard, but even before the last throb of come spilled from him, he was setting up a rhythm again, pushing deep inside Tony. He still  _ needed.  _

Tony whined, tears leaking over his cheeks. He was bloody and bruised, writhing in Steve's hold, but he didn't try to get away. And Steve kept taking. Over and over...

The door swung open with a swish, and Tony entered the room. 

**

Everyone else had already gathered, which meant that when Tony pushed through the door, everyone looked up. Everyone except Steve.

Steve looked down to where his hands were clasped in his lap, brow twisted in agony. Tony longed to soothe those deep creases smooth with his fingers, but he knew that if he touched him now, Steve would flinch away. Tony wasn't sure his heart could handle that. 

Tony tried to focus on the meeting, listen to what Natasha was saying, but his eyes drifted over towards Steve of their own accord. He had dark circles under his eyes - which Tony hadn't even known was possible - his hair was stringy and unkempt, and his shoulders were hunched over. His knuckles stayed white, his body leaning away from Tony, and he wasn't sure if Steve even knew he was doing it.

It was wrong, viscerally wrong, for Steve to be uncomfortable around him. They were the couple that orbited around each other, the one whose stolen kisses made Clint roll his eyes, made Bruce implement a No PDA At The Dinner Table rule. And now Steve couldn't even look at him, let alone touch him.

Because the last time he'd touched him, he'd been completely out of control...

He'd growled every time Tony had shifted, even slightly, and in the end, Tony gave into his hold completely, going limp, letting himself be manhandled, roughly, into whatever position Steve wanted him in. Steve grabbed his hips and hauled to the end of the bed, flipping him over as easily as if he were a sheet of paper. He pushed Tony's face into the mattress and fucked into him without hesitation.

Tony tried to suck in a breath, but the mattress pressed against his face, and all he could get were short gasps whenever Steve rocked back. His head spun, his cock rock-hard between his legs. Steve's thrusts were rubbing him up against the bed, and the friction he hadn't managed before, he had now. He ground down with every push, rolling his hips, clenching his muscles so he pulled Steve's cock deeper within him. Pleasure built, lower, hotter, harder, than it ever had before. With a wild cry he came, soaking the sheets under him, and Steve didn't slow, didn't stop, grinding his sensitive cock into the bed, slamming against his prostate...

Tony blinked to and found that Natasha had stopped talking. Everyone was looking at him, everyone except, still, Steve. Tony shot a glance his way and felt the agony roll off him in waves, slamming into Tony and shoving him underwater. 

Tony rewound the conversation - Bruce had asked if anyone else had questions - then shook his head. He'd have to have any idea what they were talking about in order to have questions about it. 

The second they were released, Steve leapt to his feet and rocketed out of the room. Tony watched him go, heart sinking. What if they couldn't recover from this? What if this was the end?

**

Steve paced back and forth across his room, wondering how many hot-then-cold showers he could take in a day before Tony noticed the difference in the water bill. Probably a lot. 

He resisted the urge to step back under the water though; it was as much hiding as staying down in his old room instead of sleeping upstairs with Tony. But he couldn't face him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

That thought made his blood run cold, so much colder than the shower would have. He shivered. Never speaking to Tony again, never holding him in his arms, never kissing across his brow - how could even be considering that now? But that might be the only way this could go - an end. Because no manner of apology could ever make up for what Steve had done, and no amount of soft kisses over Tony's eyelids could take back the brutal bites Steve's teeth had dug into his skin.

He could feel Tony's flesh giving way under his bite, the way he'd nipped then sucked, thrilling at Tony's desperate cries of pain, the taste of Tony's blood in his mouth, coppery and metallic, the few times he'd broken through. 

Steve's hand slipped down, and he rubbed his palm against his rapidly hardening erection. He hadn't touched himself since then, too ashamed, too horrified, but maybe that was the key, after all. He ached with need, a horrifying echo of that night. Maybe if he just got it out of his system…

Steve tipped down into a chair and unbuttoned his pants. That was it. He'd do this once, think about whatever he wanted to, then it would be gone, over. Done. He could go back to Tony and apologize for what he'd done and beg him to give him a chance to earn his trust back.

One stroke and Steve was already moaning. He let his eyes fall closed.

Tony's heat clenched around his cock, muscles rippling. He'd long since gone limp and pliant in Steve's hold, long enough ago to fade the divots Tony's nails had tug into Steve's biceps. But Steve's marks on Tony… it would be a long time before they faded.

Steve pinned Tony face down on the bed, a hand around each of his wrists. His hands were white, fingers curled into sharp claws in the sheets. Steve thrust inside him over and over. He'd come already - three, maybe four times - but the need still coursed through him, filled him up, buzzed under his skin. He needed to move, he needed to take, he needed to claim, and then everything would be okay.

His hand tightened around his cock, stroking fast and rough now, and he squeezed his eyes closed, bit his lip, imagined Tony writhing under him, skewered on his cock, pinned and helpless and used just for his pleasure. He'd slammed into him two, three more times, then, with a full body flush, spilled inside for the last time. The drug drained out of him in a dizzy, nauseating rush, and he groaned, still pulsing endless streams of come into Tony's fucked out hole. He finally felt  _ satisfied.  _

Steve blinked his eyes open and looked down at his come-splattered hand. He was breathing heavily, throat dry, heart pounding. He stared at his hand and saw Tony trapped under it.

He didn't feel better at all.

**

Tony squirmed in his seat, unable to focus on the engine he'd been taking apart for the last three hours. Even two days later, whenever he moved, he felt ghosts of Steve all over him. It wasn't enough. It was a teasing, taunting cruelty to want so much of him and have so little. 

Especially when, just days ago, he'd had so much. Tony's body throbbed with need, his cock filling until it pressed uncomfortably inside his pants. He shifted and the rough friction made him moan softly. He leaned back in his chair, keeping his hands on his screwdriver so he wouldn't feel the urge to touch. It wasn't fair to get off on something that had upset Steve so much, so much he couldn't even look at him.

Well, Tony wasn't going to give this up without a fight. He'd give Steve two more days to wallow sullenly in his own disgust and then he'd drag him back up to their room and make him show Tony how he wanted things to be instead. They could reclaim what they'd had, Tony had to believe that.

But, god, that had been so amazing. 

And something kept wriggling its way back into Tony's mind… something Bruce had said, while they stared at the screen together, the chemical compound broken down into colourful bars. There'd been just enough left in Steve's blood to get a sample.

"An unbelievably powerful aphrodisiac," Bruce had said, peering at the screen in unconcealed scientific curiosity.

"That's all?" Tony asked.

"Yup. Shouldn't be any lingering effects, except a headache, dry mouth, maybe a bit nauseous."

At the time, Tony had been nothing but relieved, but now, thinking about it, he couldn't help wondering - if the drug didn't make Steve violent, only horny, was the roughness all him? Once unleashed, was that really what Steve wanted? It didn't seem like it, not with how utterly horrified he'd been afterwards, but maybe it was just buried very, very deep. 

Just like Steve had been buried very, very deep inside him.

Tony chuckled at his own joke then groaned when the imagery it brought with it made his cock throb painfully. He did several complex calculations in his head until his erection faded. Now was not the time, and certainly not in his workshop. If he slept alone again tonight, he could at least jack off guilt free to whatever memories he wanted. He was owed that much, anyway.

He sighed, poking at the disassembled carburetor without enthusiasm. He was stuck in Schrodinger's couple right now - as long as he stayed down here, didn't look, didn't stare at their empty bed, maybe Steve was up there waiting for him, wrapped in their sheets, half asleep. Maybe he'd lift an arm and let Tony curl in under it and they'd drift and when they woke it would have all been a filthy dream that Tony could shove on the backburner and never face again. He stroked his thumb down his thigh, over the worst of the bites, which popped and fizzed with heady pain.

When the tension became worse than whatever he was going to face, Tony set his tools down and made his way upstairs, pressing the button for every floor on the elevator on the way up to delay the inevitable.

He was sure,  _ sure,  _ that the apartment would be empty when he stepped inside, and he'd never been happier to be wrong.

**

"You're here." 

Steve spun around at Tony's voice, heart stopping. His hands clenched and unclenched on the bedsheets where he sat. He tried to speak a few times, but couldn't make words come out. Tony took a step forward; Steve flinched back.

Tony stopped. 

"I'm here," he finally managed. "Couldn't hide forever."

"Is that what you wanted to do? Hide from me?"

Steve nodded. His eyes dropped to where his hands twisted in his lap. He couldn't ever touch Tony with these hands again. It wasn't right.

But then Tony was crossing the room in three broad strides and shoving up into his space. His hands hovered for a moment, then, when Steve didn't move, he rested them gently on either side of Steve's face. A shudder wriggled it's way down Steve's spine at the touch. It felt so much like coming home, but Steve didn't deserve that. He deserved to be cast out, exiled, abandoned. "Don't -" he choked out.

Tony sucked in a harsh breath. "You don't want me to touch you?" His voice was broken into rough, jagged pieces.

Steve blinked his eyes open and tipped his chin up to meet Tony's gaze. "I do… I do. But I don't deserve it."

Tony sighed. He furrowed his fingers through Steve's hair, making his eyes flutter closed again. God, he felt so good, so right. Steve wanted to burrow into him and never come out. 

"Steve, I love you."

Steve choked out a sob he hadn't realized he was holding back. Tony tugged until his forehead pressed against his stomach. He wanted to reach up, rest his hands on Tony's hips, but he couldn't. If Tony flinched away - he couldn't.

"I love you, too," he managed.

"We're going to be okay, you and me," Tony said, too calm, too soft. How was he so calm?

Steve leaned back, far enough to meet his eye. "How? How can we possibly be okay? Tony - I - I  _ raped you.  _ For fucks sake. I can't ever touch you again. I -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What? You didn't rape me, what the fuck, Steve?"

"I did. I - I didn't even care if you wanted it or not. I just… took."

"I told you to! I told you to take what you needed. I told you it was okay. I said yes, Steve. I consented."

"Not - not to - to  _ that."  _

_ "Yes to that!"  _ Tony was angry now, and it was almost a relief. Steve needed him to be angry, to push him away, to punish him for what he'd done.

"Tony -" Steve tried to shift back, out of Tony's hold, but he wouldn't let him go.

"No. Don't Tony me. I can't believe - you've been torturing yourself about this, haven't you? I thought you were upset because it was rough, because it wasn't 'respectful,' but you've been hiding in your apartment - which you haven't used in over three months so yeah that hurt, in case you were wondering - because you thought you _ raped me. _ I don't even know what to say. You were under the influence of drugs, and I wasn't. If anyone wasn't able to consent, it was you!"

They stared at each other for a long time, Tony's chest heaving with his anger, Steve still unable to breath properly. "Tony… I'm sorry…" he finally squeezed out, and Tony crumpled. He folded over Steve, pressing his face into his hair and kissing his head over and over.

"I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry you had your choices taken away from you. I'm sorry you've been scared and hurting and upset. But I need you to know that I love you, and I forgive you - if that's what you need to hear - and I'm not hurt, and I'm not broken, and I still want to be with you so please, please don't leave me. Please try, for me. Please?"

Steve choked back another sob. As if that could possibly be what he wanted. "I don't want to leave you. No, no. Never."

"Okay, okay. Thank god." Tony kissed him again. "If you can't touch me, or want to sleep alone, or need some space or some therapy or whatever, just say the word. I just need you to talk to me, baby."

Steve pulled back again, but only far enough to tip his chin up and draw Tony down into a kiss instead. He let one hand land delicately against Tony's cheek, more a brush of fingers than even a caress, but it made Tony smile, and that made Steve want to touch more.

**

Tony smiled into the kiss, shifting forward until he managed to get a knee up on either side of Steve's hips, straddling him on the bed. Steve's hands stayed up by Tony's face, petting his cheeks, stroking through his hair, never gripping, never holding, just touching.

Tony pushed closer, desperate to occupy the same space as his boyfriend again, reclaim the closeness he'd taken for granted before. To his relief, Steve welcomed him in. He tipped onto his back and let Tony stretch out on top of him, relaxing under him. Tony deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between Steve's lips and moaning softly when he tasted warm familiarity there. 

Steve's hands drifted down, stroking over Tony's back before settling on his hips. He moaned and Tony jerked forward, blood rushing south. God, he'd missed this.

Steve's fingers twitched, digging into Tony's skin just a little bit and Tony gasped as they found the places where bruises were still healing.

Steve jerked away like he'd been burned. 

He put careful distance between them, managing to deposit Tony on his ass on the bed in a way that wasn't rough but was very, very humiliating. Tony tried not to pout. "Steve?" he asked. "You okay?"

"I don't think I can, Tony, not yet."

"That's okay. We don't have to do anything. We can just cuddle up and go to sleep." Tony stood and dropped his jeans to the floor then pulled his t-shirt over his head. "No pressure."

Steve's eyes never left him, flicking from one yellowed patch of bruised skin to the next. "I - I'm afraid of what I might do."

Tony petted his head. "It wasn't you, babe. It was the drug."

"What if…" Steve swallowed heavily, curling in on himself, somehow managing to look small. "What if it _ was  _ me, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't stop thinking about it," Steve admitted quietly. "I can't stop thinking about the way you felt under me, the noises you made. How good it felt to  _ take.  _ It won't go away. It's in my head now, and I'm so, so sorry, but if I touch you I'm afraid I'll - I'll -"

Tony's breath caught. "Afraid you'll what?" he gasped out.

Steve's eyes shifted ever so slowly up to meet Tony's. They were wide and terrified. "Afraid I'll lose control again, hold you down, take what I want. Afraid I'll hurt you."

"And you don't want that?"

Steve frowned. "Of course I don't want to hurt you, Tony. I love you. I don't want to do anything to you that you don't want."

"Who says I don't want it?"

"What?" Steve unfurled, tilting his head in genuine curiosity.

"I liked it, Steve," Tony said gently, encouraging. " Heck, I came twice. It was wild and hot and incredible. I wasn't just trying to make you feel better when I said it was okay, Steve. For me, it really was okay."

"I - I didn't notice," Steve stammered out.

"Yeah, cause you were all hopped up on superjuice." Tony shifted a little closer. "I love what we have, and I love you, and if what happened scares you or upsets you then of course we don't have to talk about it, you don't ever have to touch me that way again. We can go to sleep now - I'll even put my clothes back on - and we'll take our time working up to sex again. But if you're only afraid you'll get a little rough in the heat of the moment, that you'll add another layer of bruises. Well, I'm not opposed."

"Really?" Tony could see Steve's wordview shifting and upsetting.

"I wouldn't lie to you about something like that, baby. I really wouldn't."

"I know." Steve's hand covered his, and Tony brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "I just - I never. I don't know."

"It's fine. We'll shelve it."

"No." Steve swallowed hard. Tony watched his throat bob. "I want that. I want to."

Tony's grin spread slowly, but it was dark and eager and hot. "Well then, hot stuff -" he spread his arms wide and leaned back on the bed, opening himself to Steve.  _ "Take me."  _

**

Like a rubber band snapping back into place, everything shifted, refocused, and Steve knew what he wanted, without doubt. And Tony wanted it too, which was - was everything. 

He rumbled, possessive and rough and needy, then grabbed Tony's ankle and pulled, dragging him down the bed and up against Steve's side. "You're mine," he murmured as he bent to Tony's shoulder, kissing along his collarbone then biting down hard at the juncture of his neck.

Tony gasped, and the sound shot straight to Steve's cock. "I want to hurt you," Steve admitted into Tony's skin. "But I don't want to  _ hurt  _ you."

"Qubit."

"What?"

"My safeword is qubit. Don't stop til you hear it. Take me, please, use me, fuck me, own me, claim me. I'm yours, nothing but yours." Tony hooked his arms lightly over Steve's shoulders, leaning his weight in Steve's hold, going limp, offering himself up.

"Fuck." Steve pulled Tony into his lap then stood abruptly, swallowing down Tony's yelp at the sudden change with a rough kiss. He bit Tony's bottom lip hard then slammed him against the bedroom wall. It wasn't as hard as he wanted, needed, but he couldn't break Tony, so instead he punched his fist through the drywall next to Tony's head, feeling the satisfying crack as it gave, the scrape of nails and plywood over his knuckles. 

"Oh my god," Tony moaned, and it was just like that night. Tony was soft and giving in his arms, mewling and keening and writhing up against Steve's crotch, and this time Steve was really present, could really feel it. He pinned Tony against the wall with his whole body, feeling Tony's chest heave against his, trying to pull in oxygen, and the rabbit-rapid pounding of his heart.

Steve pawed at Tony's clothes, shoving them aside, tearing them when they didn't give way quickly enough. Tony didn't try to fight him, didn't glare or frown. He bounced his head back against the wall and scrabbled his fingers over Steve's chest, nonsensical pleas falling from his lips.  

Steve fumbled with the drawer of their bedside table. Last time, he was realizing, Tony must have figured out what was going to happen, because when Steve had gotten bored with marking Tony's neck, he'd pushed Tony's legs apart to find him already with three slick fingers buried in his own ass. Tony kept lube in his pockets now, after one too many a frustrated handjob when they were caught out without it, and thank god because Steve didn't want to think about what he'd have done if Tony hadn't thought to prepare himself.

But this time, Steve wanted that for himself. He found the bottle and tucked it in his back pocket, hands falling to Tony's hips again. He tugged until Tony's legs wrapped around his waist, his clothes effectively discarded, then ground forward, pressing the rough denim of his jeans against Tony's erection. 

Steve claimed Tony in another kiss, shoving his tongue between his lips, swallowing down Tony's moans. God, he was so hard now, they both were. He tried to summon the guilt from before, slow down a little, but it was distant now, and shrinking further with every grind and gasp from Tony. Steve had been too far gone last time to register if Tony was enjoying it or not. It had been all about his own pleasure, all about taking what the drug made him need, but now he could see it. Tony's eyes were blown black, when they bothered to flicker open at all, soft noises fell out with every breath, and his head tipped back, baring his neck and chest to Steve, arching his back so his needy erection left wet trails over Steve's pants. 

Steve spun again, throwing Tony on the bed and dropping to his knees. Tony's back hit the mattress and he bounced, a huff of breath knocked from his lungs. He scrambled to organize himself, but Steve gave him no chance. He grabbed each of Tony's thighs, hard enough to bruise black over the fading yellow fingerprints that already mottled his skin, and pulled until Tony's ass was right at the edge of the bed with his legs hooked over Steve's shoulders. 

Steve dove in, and Tony let out a stream of curses that scratched his voice hoarse as they flew out. Steve licked a stripe up the cleft of Tony's ass, over his hole then sucked before shoving his tongue in as far as it would go. 

He breathed in the musky scent of sweat and Tony's skin and under it all: fear, bitter and electric, like sucking on a battery. Tony was afraid in the best possible way, hopeless and useless and entirely at Steve's mercy.

"Oh god," Tony sobbed, "so fucking close already."

Steve reached around, over his thigh, scraped his fingernails up Tony's leg in a long, cruel slide, then rubbed his palm roughly over Tony's cock once, from base to tip. 

Tony exploded.

**

Tony's orgasm ripped through him, taking everything with it. He dug both heels into Steve's back, holding on for dear life as he shot spurts of come over his stomach and chest. His body ached, muscles still not fully recovered, and his throat was sore and stinging. "Nuh," he managed to get out, tongue heavy in his mouth.

"Tony?" Steve asked, too soft and light. Tony rolled his hips in desperation. "Do you need me to stop?"

"No," Tony panted. "Don't stop. Hurts good. Ah!" Steve didn't hesitate to follow Tony's order, shoving two surprisingly slick fingers into his hole up to the knuckle. The stretch burned and Tony's whole body flinched. It was painfully electric, so soon after coming, but Steve's didn't dodge his prostate, if anything, he was seeking it out, grinding his fingers deeper and harder until Tony's cheeks were wet with tears. 

He kicked out, feeling his foot connect with the shade of the lamp on their bedside table, and when it hit the floor, Steve hauled up to his feet, lifted Tony straight up then tossed him back on the bed, against the headboard.

Steve growled, the sound almost enough to get Tony's dick hard again, and he flipped Tony over without warning, pressing his front against the headboard and crowding up against his back. He rubbed his cock, frighteningly hard and wet, against Tony's lower back, making Tony clench up in head-spinning fear. He was so much to take, so big, and he normally spent ages getting Tony ready, stretching him out with whispered words of praise and soft kisses.  

But there was no careful preparation this time. Steve plunged his fingers in deeper a few times, stretching and pushing, then pulled Tony's hips back onto his cock in one rough, deep slide.

"Holy shit, holy shit," Tony gasped, clawing his fingers down the wall above his head. Steve thrust, slamming Tony against the headboard, the wood rubbing painfully against his nipples. He thrust again.

Steve's mouth landed hot and half-teeth against the back of Tony's neck. He nipped, sucked, then bit down hard. "Mine," he growled.

"Yours, yours, all yours," Tony whined. "You can do whatever you want to me. Hold me down, tie me up, fuck me all day until I can't think, can't walk, please, please, anything you want."

Steve bit down harder, his breaths hot, wet, and desperate against Tony's skin, sending shivers down his spine. Tony was half hard again but there was no way he could summon another orgasm. But every urgent press of Steve's cock into his hole, stretching him and filling him, sent another crackle of pleasure through his core

Part of him needed Steve to come, but part of him never wanted it to be over, just used and used up for all eternity. But then Steve shuddered against his back, pressed him flush to the headboard, grabbed his hips, painfully hard, bit down, and came. 

The noises that spilled out of him made Tony want to beg him to keep going, fuck him right through it and into another one, but without the rush of the drug, Steve wasn't quite so overwhelmed with need. His breathing slowed, after a moment, and his fingers relaxed, petting softly instead of digging in. He eased back, bringing Tony with him, and curled him around to settle on his back on the bed. Steve's hands stroked down Tony's sides. 

"You okay?"

It took a few tries for Tony to get words out, "Yuh, yeah. Great. Perfect. Thank you." He waved his hand until he caught hold of some part of Steve and petted it.

But then it pulled away. 

"No!" Tony's eyes shot open to find Steve with one knee on the bed, pants still around his thighs, dripping with come and lube. 

"What's wrong?" He was back in an instant, touching Tony all over, eyes scanning him with military attention. "Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no. I'm okay." Tony swallowed the fuzz in his mouth, managed to stop slurring. "Don't go. I just don't want you to leave. Last time, you… you left. That -"

Steve's expression collapsed. He pulled Tony into his lap, curling around him and pressing gentle kisses over his brow. "I was just going to get you a cloth to clean up," he whispered in Tony's ear. "I wasn't going to leave you."

"Stay here. We can take a shower together in a little bit."

Steve snorted softly. "We're going to fall asleep."

"Then we'll take a shower in the morning."

"And burn these sheets…"

"And buy a new lamp and hire a contractor, yes, yes. We can put the bedroom back together. But in the morning. For now, just stay and love me."

Steve shuffled his pants off then worked them both under the covers, wrapped together until it wasn't clear where one ended and the other began. "You're really okay with it?" he whispered into the dark, long after Tony thought he'd drifted off.

"I really am. I loved it, I love you. You're incredible. I think anything we do together is incredible, frankly. You make me feel amazing."

"I love you, too." Steve let out a soft sigh then Tony finally felt him give into his hold, breathing deep and slow and even as he drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr at festiveferret.tumblr.com


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